Paintings and Pictures
by Notaslongasthat
Summary: After Mr. Bricker leaves during s5e5.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Downton Abbey and if I did, the final Cobert kiss wouldn't have been cut ;) Am I right?**

She wanted to watch his car leave to be sure of his departure. She watched, rigid at the window as Molesley helped him into the car and her stomach nervously flipped when he unexpectedly looked up to where she stood. She didn't react. For one, she didn't know how to react because she didn't know exactly how she felt about the previous night's events. It was entirely inappropriate, of course, but she had so enjoyed his company up until that point. She never thought he would dare to enter her bedroom - her marital bedroom. And now, it all felt so surreal – like it hadn't happened at all.

But it had happened. The cold left side of her bed confirmed the reality of her situation as did the absence of his visit to her bedroom after his breakfast to visit while she ate hers. That morning she sat with her tray in an all too quiet bedroom as she ate very little. Staring across the room, the only sound keeping her company was the replay in her ear of Robert's forceful backhand across Mr. Bricker's face followed by her shouts at them to stop, which were not heard over their grunting as they fought – fought about _her_.

She didn't want to wave at Mr. Bricker then, afraid it might send the wrong message. Because she was certain of one thing: she wanted him gone. Once he was gone for good everything between Robert and her could return to normal; or to some version of normal. Mr. Bricker had been right that Robert had been blind to her lately; something which he foolishly proclaimed to Robert's face. Bricker accused Robert of choosing to ignore her. She knew Robert wasn't fully aware of his behaviour, he was lost, he was jealous and yes, she did feel passed over but she knew he cherished her. He was just suffering from temporary blindness – something he was prone to do but he never had a man confront him about it to him in his own bedroom of all places. No wonder he had punched him. But Bricker hadn't been entirely wrong and if it had taken his impertinence for Robert to open his eyes then maybe some good would come from last night.

Cora knew Bricker was interested in her but tried to tell herself he was just a shameless flirt. She was _married –_ married! She told him time and time again that he mustn't call her beautiful and she told him to behave but when it came down to it, she found him flattering and enjoyed his attentions. She received his compliments. She would smile, blush – neither of which discouraged him. She told him to stop but he did not listen. She did nothing to suggest she wanted him in her bedroom but she knew, compared to any other male guest they received, that she looked forward to his arrivals more. But, it was never inappropriate and she had no desire for an affair – however common they may be among the married aristocracy. She loved Robert.

Did he really think something would have happened? That's what hurt her. He slept in his small, cold dressing room bed rather than with her when clearly, he had been eager to see her. She remembered him saying, "I'm glad you're still awake," before his eyes widened when they fell on Bricker.

Something had broken between them at some point, she thought sadly as Bricker's car disappeared from view. Or maybe, it hadn't broken – she hoped, as her throat prickled, threatening tears. They weren't broken but she knew that they were bending dangerously close to it and if things continued, they would break apart.

Robert would need time, she knew. She didn't expect to see him until he was obligated to greet people with her at his deputy lieutenant bash that evening. He was stubbornly hiding from her and she didn't even know where to find him if she wanted to. She would give him space for the time being.

Cora still stared out the window, realizing she had a full day ahead of her and she didn't know what to do. She planned to oversee the photographer with Mr. Bricker as they took pictures of the painting, offering him luncheon and then catching up with Robert when he returned from Sheffield to discuss his meeting and the upcoming cocktail party bash. None of that would happen now, except the photographer was still bound to arrive soon she realized. And she would have to oversee that.

Just as she realized this, another car pulled up the drive and not long after, Carson's booming voice introduced a, "Miss. Florence Haywood, milady." A woman – who looked a couple years older than Mary entered. She was dressed professionally; her clothing certainly matched the newest fashions of London.

"Thank, you Carson."

He gave a singular deep nod and left. Cora knew he must find it peculiar that Bricker had left before her arrival. As did this photographer as she glanced around the room, a confused expression at only meeting with Cora.

"Lady Grantham," she said politely. "It's a pleasure although I was expecting a Mr. Bricker. Simon Bricker," she said curiously. "The picture is for his book."

"Yes. He had some unexpected news back in London and had to catch the first train," Cora said trying to sound regretful. "I can show you to the painting. There's no reason not to proceed without him."

"Absolutely. He's already paid in full so I really must. It seems a straightforward task, as far as photographs go," she smiled.

* * *

Cora watched as the photographer took her last photo of the painting and began packing up. She thought of how Robert took such pride in the Della Francesca as Miss. Haywood complimented it.

"Are you interested in art history, Miss. Haywood?"

"I've been an admirer of Piero della Francesca's work for as long as I can remember but that's about all I can claim. I'm certainly no expert like Mr. Bricker," she said as she packed up her equipment. "This painting may be a study for a larger work, Mr. Bricker told me when he asked me to take the pictures and so I jumped at the opportunity to take the pictures. Normally, I enjoy taking pictures of events, or family portraits. I do hope he is right about your painting though."

"It would certainly be interesting," Cora smiled. "Your pictures will help with the investigation, no doubt. Would you like some tea before you go?"

"That is so kind, Lady Grantham. I would, thank you."

They sat in the drawing room, discussing life in London and how there are so many wonderful art galleries to see there. Miss. Haywood complimented the art displayed around the drawing room. Cora studied the woman – she thought she seemed a kind, open minded and – if she were not in the presence of a countess – Cora suspected she would have quite the sense of humour. It was something about her mannerisms and the way she spoke. She was polite and professional but Cora had long accepted that being a Countess in her position, that people must first present this way to her.

"Miss. Haywood?" Cora began, fidgeting with her skirt with the hand that wasn't holding a tea cup. "You said earlier that you normally take pictures of people. Or you prefer to?"

"Yes, your ladyship. I prefer to focus on people and capture who they are on film. I try to make a still moment feel as lively and truthful as I can. That's why taking a photograph of a painting was different for me but Mr. Bricker paid so well and he needed someone last minute so I took this job."

Cora didn't allow herself to dwell on how it was a last minute booking to get the photographer. Had Mr. Bricker spontaneously decided he wanted to come back and pulled everything together? Or did he really want to photograph the painting for his book? She didn't care. She had an idea in mind and she needed to ask this young woman or she knew she would likely never find the opportunity again.

"Do you by chance," Cora coughed. "I mean, would you take a picture of me? What I mean to say, is I hear of Ladies in London getting personal pictures taken and I wondered…" her voice waned.

"You want a 'personal' picture taken," Miss Haywood encouraged her to elaborate, not wanting to say anything out of place. The glint in her eye suggested that she knew what Cora was trying to work up the courage to ask for.

"Yes, for my husband," Cora said more steadily, authority reappearing in her tone.

"A personal picture for your husband, milady?" she clarified.

"Yes," she hoped her pinks weren't turning pink but she knew they must be.

Miss. Haywood set down her tea. "I do hope I haven't presumed incorrectly but," she reached for a briefcase and pulled out a small book. "I carry examples of my work when I travel and may these be the types of photograph you are interested in?" She flipped to a page at the back of the book.

She stood from her chair and handed Cora the open book cautiously.

Cora was sure her face was red by now. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and said quietly, "Thank you, Miss Haywood," and set the book closed on her lap. "That is precisely what I am interested in."

"Boudoir photography," she responded graciously. "And you are quite right. It is especially common in London."

"And you could do this today?" Cora asked hopefully, handing the book back, knowing that Robert's avoidance of her may work in her advantage.

"It would not be a problem at all, Lady Grantham. As luck happens, this was my only booking today and I don't need to be back in London until late this evening."

"Wonderful," Cora answered – a little bit of her embarrassment lifting; though she could still feel the tightness in her cheeks. "Then, I suppose, I should show you upstairs?"

"If you are certain."

"I am," Cora responded. She wanted to do this for Robert. She had thought of it before, in passing, never thinking she would book a photographer herself for the job. This opportunity just seemed too perfect to pass by and something about this woman put Cora at ease. She wasn't sure just when she would give Robert the photographs but the thought of his face when she did thrilled her, and prompted her to help Florence Haywood carry her equipment to her bedroom. She couldn't very well ask Carson to assist them without embarrassment, after all.

 **The reason Cora doesn't know when she'll give the photos to Robert, aside from her wanting to wait until he stopped being an asshat, is I don't know how long it would take for her to get the photographs developed (#1924 problems) and I would need to come up with a romantic and realistic way for Robert to receive them. So, once I figure that out - chapter two will be coming :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I hope you enjoy it.**

As uninviting as the trip to London was, Cora decided to kill two birds with one stone. She opted not to have the photographs mailed to her since she didn't want to risk Robert being in the room when she opened them. She wanted to make sure it was a surprise.

After meeting Edith with Rosamund, she found herself in Rosamund's drawing room, just having finished discussing their current plan to bring Marigold back with Edith in the morning.

"Well, I think I'd like to get some air," Cora said casually. "And clear my head."

"Of course. You have a lot to think about," Rosamund replied, still feeling like she was walking on eggshells with Cora after keeping Edith's secret from her for so long. "Would you like company?"

"I think I'd rather be alone but thank you," Cora said evenly. "I won't be long."

That morning Cora called the photography studio where Florence worked and arranged to meet that evening after the studio closed; when Cora was sure she could get away. She was nervous to pick up the photographs and see how they looked. Thinking back how nervous she had been when she when she posed for the photos, she took on a deep breath and stared at her reflection in the taxi window. Part of her wished she had done this when she was younger but she knew she never would have and now - well, she knew Robert still found her beautiful. And it wasn't like she didn't like the way she looked; it was just the knowledge that there was now photographic evidence of it...

She gulped then shook herself. What did it matter anyway? They were only for Robert's eyes and she did it for him. She straightened her posture as the taxi slowed down.

"Your destination, milady."

"Thank you. I will be right back."

Florence opened the door right away after Cora knocked, expecting her. "Lady Grantham. Come in. I have your photographs and I daresay you will be pleased with the results."

She was right. Cora shuffled through them, feeling relief as excitement took over. She couldn't wait to give them to Robert. She tucked them into the envelope Florence gave her and gave Florence a tip as she adjusted her hat.

"Thank you, Miss Haywood. You made me feel very comfortable while these were taken. And I trust that no one else will ever see the photographs."

"You can be sure of it. Well, at least if they do it will be no fault of this studio. You hold the only copies in that envelope," she smiled. "I'm happy you're pleased with them," she added before walking with her back to the door.

—-—

The next few days were a blur of chaotic activity. Between helping Edith get Marigold settled into Downton, helping soothe Edith's nerves about everything, the disastrous dinner with Lord Merton and his sons and beginning wedding plans with a giddy Rose, Cora had almost forgotten about the photographs. She tucked them into her locked desk drawer in her sitting room under piles of old letters after she and Edith returned from London.

She remembered after dinner three nights after Isis passed away. Sitting in the drawing room, she suddenly excused herself - retiring early; saying she needed an early night. She snuck into her sitting room and pulled the envelope out of her drawer and tip toed to her bedroom. She called for Baxter and got ready for bed like any other night.

When Baxter left, she climbed into bed and pulled the envelope from where she hid it under her pillow. Then, she got an idea for how to give them to Robert. After pulling each photograph - four in total, out of the envelope, she reached over the bed and grabbed the book Robert was reading and tucked them into the spine of the book on the page he was reading. Then, she hid the envelope in her bedside drawer and made herself comfortable in bed; waiting for him to walk through his dressing room door.

She felt her heart beating faster and hid her shaking hands under the blankets. Then she heard the turn of the knob and took a deep breath.

"Rose is certainly more excited than I've ever seen her," Robert said as he entered. "And the girl always has a skip in her step."

"Yes, well getting married to the person you love is a thrilling prospect," she said with a flirtatious, closed lipped smile.

"Yes," he firmly agreed and threw his robe on the chaise-lounge and walked to his side of their bed. "As is being married to the one you love." He settled into bed and leaned over to kiss her cheek and then he let his lips linger on her lips. He pulled back. "See? Thrilling."

Her heart pounded further. "I think so too," her voice fluttered. His nose dipped under her chin and began a warm pattern of kisses down her neck. "Mmm," she hummed. "Robert?"

"Yes, dear?" his hands were spread wide across her waist - his fingers teasing at her hip bones , making her feel deliciously feminine and wonderfully his. He looked down at her, through gentle but excited eyes, waiting for her to speak. His fingers circled through her nightgown her and she squirmed.

She inhaled. "Don't - don't you want to read?"

She saw confusion in his eyes just before disappointment took over. He hesitated, "If you wish."

"Just for a little while," she grabbed his hand off her hip and kissed his knuckles with what she hoped was a promising look in her eyes. "Please."

"Of course," he went to reach for his novel but felt Cora's arms circling his upper arm as she settled into him. He could feel her heart beating against his side. "Cora?" he asked, bewildered.

"Just read your book, Robert," she whispered.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder; opening them when she heard him gasp as he opened his book. "What's this?" He picked up a photograph from where they had fallen from the book to between them on the bed. One hand covered his mouth as he stared at it. "Cora..." He looked down at her with darkened eyes, biting his lip.

"Yes?" was all she could muster, holding back a smile.

"What is this...what are these?"

"Well, my dear husband, these," she began as she picked up the other three photos and pressed them into his palm, "are a gift for you -."

"- It isn't my birthday," he thought lamely -still somewhat in shock.

"No but," she took a photo from his hand and read what she had written on the back. " 'You're the only man I have or ever will love, Robert'. And I hoped these could help remind you of that," she kissed his cheek. "Do you like them?" She asked, realizing he hadn't really reacted.

"Like them?" he repeated; sounding like he couldn't believe she had to ask. "I like them very much," he took the one photo Cora had and shuffled them out like a hand of cards. He exhaled in disbelief, "My word," he gawked. "You are so incredibly beautiful," his fingers traced her body over the photographs.

In the first photograph, she stared back at him with a demure but inviting look. She sat, leaning back on her palms on the bench by their bedroom window - the curtains beside her - wearing nothing but a light silk slip. Her hair framed her face, curling around her shoulders.

The second photo was taken from above her and was a close up - she lay on their bed with her arms spread above her head - looking extremely relaxed. In the bottom of the photograph he could see though the thin white material, her nipples begging to be touched.

The third photo, she lay back, reclined on her elbows with her right leg crossed over her left knee. Her toe pointed in the air towards the camera. The thin strap of her slip was hanging off her shoulder. Her collarbone looked so inviting above the rise of her chest, protruding over the silky neckline of her slip.

The fourth photo was the one she prayed no one but Robert would see. She wasn't sure if she would take it but in the end, decided she wanted to. The straps of her slip hung below her waist and the hem of it bunched in her lap; barely covering her modesty. She lay on her side in her bed, her legs curled. One hand rested on the swell of her bottom where it met her hip and the other spread forward towards the camera like she was offering him her hand. She had her back arched and her breasts sat proudly below her wide smile; a smile he knew so well.

"Robert..." she placed her hand over his as he absorbed the pictures. She rubbed her thumb into the back of his hand. She was sure she was blushing furiously but she didn't care. She took the photographs from his grip and stacked them in a pile on his bedside table. "I'm glad you like them."

"Oh, I do," he said deeply and pulled her against his chest. "Now I understand why you wanted to 'read'," he teased. He placed a kiss on top of her head, inhaling the smell of her hair.

"Who says I still don't?" she tried to sound serious and passed Robert his long abandoned book. He took it from her, his eyes not leaving hers which made it impossible for her to maintain a straight face. She burst into a fit of giggles before she pulled the book back, setting it on top of her photographs. "Fine, fine," she muttered then nipped at his earlobe. "Fine," she whispered.

He placed his palms across her cheeks and pulled her in for a slow and gentle kiss. "Cora. I hope you know that you're the only woman I ever have or will love. I will cherish your present greatly but... but I didn't need a reminder of how much you love me. I already know because you remind me every day in some way or another," he paused. "But my darling, this reminder was certainly..." he trailed off, his voice laced with arousal as he grappled for the right word.

"Thrilling?" she offered.

"Yes. That's one word for it. Being married to you is thrilling, like I said but," he kissed her neck. "But those photographs are beautiful, daring," he sucked at her skin. "And incredibly arousing. Sexy," he groaned as goosebumps erupted across her chest. Cora began unbuttoning his pyjama shirt from the bottom button upwards. She scraped her nails against his hard skin up to the hair on his chest. She lowered her mouth to spread kisses across his torso.

"Robert, I love you so much," she said as she planted short, wet kisses over his skin. "I'd do anything to let you know just how much," she pulled his nipple into her mouth. "But right now, I'd like you to show me," she rasped before kissing him deeply and rolling off of him. "Please."

She gripped her nightgown and felt it glide off her body. She tossed it away as she locked eyes with his; savouring the familiar gleam in his eye as she revealed herself to him. His look always warmed her, comforted her and this night was no different. "Show me," she whispered again. "Robert," she said his name so delicately; almost caressing it in her throat.

"Cora," his warm breath met her lips before his mouth did. He ran his hands through her hair, across her cheeks, shoulders and up her back before settling in a tight embrace around her waist. "I could try and show you and try and tell you, it still wouldn't be enough."

"Yes, it would," she insisted and pulled his open shirt off his arms. "You'll always be enough. You are all I want; all I've ever wanted," her finger tips trailed down his bare torso. He tugged her upper arm towards him and kissed her again, then set her back onto the bed intent on showing her how much he loves and needs her.

CRCRCRCRCRCRCRCRCRCRC

im not sure if I'm done with this fic. Maybe one more chapter


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